


Chloe & Marinette Vs. The Fuckboys

by the_dot



Series: chloe & marinette take on the world [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, OOC, Overuse of italics, Unbeta'ed, also shippy for chlorinette if you super duper squint, and a few innuendos made by a fuckboy, edit: the "shippy for chlorinette" is in the summary, for like half a second each, i guess, ooc-ness everywhere, so. w/e, teen rating for gratuitous amounts of swearing, unless you count the endy bit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9132070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_dot/pseuds/the_dot
Summary: When Chloe had stopped her rather-too-close-to-be-quite-straight study of Marinette, the two girls had started listening to Damian&Co. They had then looked at each other and, for a split second, been able to communicate in a way that transcended mere words.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breeeliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeeliss/gifts), [Magical_Awesome_Kid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magical_Awesome_Kid/gifts).



> inspired by [ this post ](http://breeeliss.tumblr.com/post/154443190554/something-tells-me-that-on-the-off-chance-that) by breeeliss  
> it's _so late. end me._  
>  this is the first time i've actually ficced and finished something, sooo. plz be gentle in ur criticisms.  
> thanks to breeeliss for letting me play in her sandbox, and happy belated birthday to Magical_Awesome_Kid!  
> (edit: now with a summary, because it took me over a month to realize that it didn't have one.)

If you asked anyone at the Collège Françoise Dupont whether they thought Chloe Bourgeois and Marinette Dupain-Cheng could ever get along, they would look at you like you had just sprouted another head.

They would say, “Are you insane? Have you _met_ them?”

Or, “Maybe in another universe, where pigs can fly and there are unicorns that fart rainbows.”

Or, simply, “No.”

But in a city where heroes roamed the streets and villains possessed unsuspecting citizens, anything was possible. Even two sworn enemies working together for a common goal: to tear apart three of the fuckboy-est fuckboys to ever fuckboy.

* * *

 

“Late _again_ , Marinette?”

Marinette’s tired face twisted into a scowl. She looked rather like she had been forced to stay up all night, tossed into a river, and nearly drowned by a giant dolphin. Which was not what had happened. Of course. “Leave me alone, Chloe.”

Chloe smiled and opened her mouth as if about to say more, but stopped and frowned, tilting her head to listen to someone behind her.

“—I _loved_ Ladybug last night. She looked _so_ sexy when her suit was wet.” A tall, blonde-haired boy with a face that said _slap me_ named Damian Rolland stood facing his two friends, both looking like washed-out photocopies of Damian himself.

“Makes you wonder how wet she was in _other_ places, right?” Damian Copy #1 joked. Damian Copy #2 laughed in a way that sounded remarkably like _strangle me._

Damian smiled in a way that said _I’m a fuckboy._ “You know, I wonder if it’s harder to take off when it’s wet, or—”

What the _or_ was the students of the Collège Françoise Dupont will never know, because when Chloe had stopped her rather-too-close-to-be-quite-straight study of Marinette, the two girls had started listening to Damian &Co. They had then looked at each other and, for a split second, been able to communicate in a way that transcended mere words. The full depth and beauty of their exchange cannot possibly be conveyed here, but it went something like this:

 _Is he_ actually _talking about Ladybug like that?????_

_Let’s kill him. I can hide the body. I have People._

_Too many witnesses. Let’s humiliate him. When school’s out you can do what you want._

_Yes. Absolutely._

The resounding harmony of _BITCH, YOU THOUGHT_ emanating from their combined glare was the blessed sound that had quieted what Damian &Co. would have called _appreciation_ and anyone else would have called _a fuckboy being a fuckboy_.

“What, exactly,” Marinette began nicely, “did you just say about Ladybug?”

Chloe had a much more direct approach.

“I am a _close personal friend_ of Ladybug’s—” (Marinette took a moment to roll her eyes for reasons unknown) “—and if she _ever_ found out what you were saying she’d fling you so far out of Paris your _grandchildren_ would still be finding their way back.”

Damian&Co. were not sure what this was supposed to mean, but it certainly _sounded_ impressive. Damian Copies #1&2 shrunk back a bit. Damian himself just looked bored.

“Calm down, sweetie,” he drawled. “It’s not like she’s here.”

(A very small sneeze, barely audible, came from Marinette’s bag. It went ignored in favor of listening to Marinette herself.)

“That _does not give you the right_ to act like she is an—an _object_ ,” Marinette said, trying to stay calm. “She—”

“—is the _greatest thing_ and you are a _bag of dicks_ , did you know?” Chloe stomped up to Damian Copy #1. “You had better _hope_ you never say _anything_ like that again, because I’ll—”

“I’m sorry,” Damian Copy #1 said, quickly, cowering away from her. “We’re sorry, he’s sorry, I’ll _never_ say anything objectifying about Ladybug ever again.”

“Or anyone else,” Marinette added, looking pleased with how terrified Damian Copy #2 looked.

“Or anyone else,” the copies chorused.

Damian rolled his eyes so far back he could almost see his nonexistent brain. “Oh, come on, we weren’t _hurting_ anyone. I bet you two are just jealous we weren’t talking about _you_.”

Chloe stilled, her face turning slowly to him. Tiny demons with scissors that had the words _LOL NOPE_ etched on the blades danced over the ever-weakening threads that were Marinette’s self-control.

Damian smirked, oblivious to Marinette’s predicament. “But if you want...” He dragged his eyes over the two girls, one after the other, in a way that said _my mother is ashamed to be seen with me._ “I’ll talk about _you_ all you want, sweetheart.”

_(Snip.)_

* * *

 

“So let me get this straight,” Sabine said. “You punched this boy.”

Marinette looked at Damian, who glared at her over the bloody towel and icepack he was holding to his nose.

“Yes,” she said peacefully.

“Because he was saying sexual things about you and one of your friends. In a _school_.”

Marinette nodded, examining a fingernail.

Sabine looked at Mr. Damocles with raised eyebrows. “And you’re not even going to tell him it was wrong?”

“Well—” Mr. Damocles coughed and shuffled some papers on his desk. “That goes without saying, Madame, but it is not right to resort to physical violence.”

Tom put his elbows on the desk and cradled his chin in his hands, staring directly into Mr. Damocles’s eyes, and said several things about his eyebrows that the author is not comfortable typing and no one was comfortable hearing. It left Mr. Damocles sputtering.

“Tell me you don’t want to punch me now,” Tom said.

This question was unnecessary. _Everyone_ wanted to punch him.

Before Mr. Damocles could express these sentiments, the doors of his office burst open and a cloud of gold and glitter entered. From it emerged an irate Chloe Bourgeois. She brightened considerably when she saw Damian’s bloody face.

“Oh, good!” she said happily. “You’ve already brought him here. How many detentions is he going to get?”

Mr. Damocles sputtered even more. “Miss Bourgeois—”

“Or will you just suspend him?” she wondered.

“Miss Bourgeois, if anyone is going to be suspended, it is Miss Dupain-Cheng, not Mr. Rolland.” Mr. Damocles quailed at Chloe’s sudden glare. “Obviously we will have a conversation about proper conduct—”

“Marinette was _defending me_ , and you’re going to punish _her_ ?” Chloe asked dangerously. “And a _conversation?_ Do you _know_ what he said about me?”

“Well—”

“Do you know what my _father_ will do when he finds out?” she demanded, pulling out her phone. “I should call him right now—”

“Now, Miss Bourgeois,” Mr. Damocles said nervously,  “there’s no need for drastic measures—”

“Do you _honestly_ expect me to go to school with _him_ ?” She waved a hand distastefully at Damian. “How can you expect me to learn in a place where I and my fellow classmates are in danger of being _objectified_ —”

Mr. Damocles sighed. “Miss Bourgeois, no one was physically harmed except the person you want to punish. From what I understand, he was having a—admittedly inappropriate—conversation with his friends. If it bothered you, couldn’t you have ignored it?”

“Oh, dear,” Sabine said.

She stared at him for a long time. The tiny demons were back in Marinette’s head, with an even bigger pair of scissors for far less thread.

Suddenly, Chloe smiled sweetly, hit a button on her phone, and held it up to her ear as she stalked toward the door. “Daddy? I need someone suspended. Or expelled. Also possibly someone fired.”

“ _WAIT_ ,” Mr. Damocles bellowed.

Chloe stopped, her hand on the knob.

“I...” He looked at Damian’s terrified face and sighed. “Mr. Rolland, you will be suspended for a week, and if this happens again you will be expelled.”

Chloe smiled in a way that said _I am a boss-ass bitch and you are the dirt beneath my Louis Vuittons_ and hung up the phone. “Now that we’re done here.” She marched over to Marinette, grabbed her arm, and pulled her out the door.

Marinette flailed for about half a second, then said a hurried goodbye to her confused parents and allowed herself to be dragged away.

Chloe pulled her into the bathroom, shut the door, and wet a paper towel.

“There’s asshole blood on your face,” she announced, swiping at Marinette’s forehead with the towel before she could react. “And hands. But you can wash your own hands.”

Marinette glanced at her hands and went to the sink. “Why are you telling me?”

“Because you saved me from getting asshole blood on my own hands,” she said idly, looking at her nails as she perched atop the sink next to Marinette’s. “Also, you need to learn how to hit people. That was terrible technique.”

Marinette sighed, scratching at a particularly stubborn spot of blood with her fingernail. “And you could do it better?”

“Of course. I’m better than you at everything.”

The tiny demons were silent, and Marinette let her head fall against the mirror. “Of course.”

Chloe preened. “And you’d better remember it.” She hopped down and looped her arm through Marinette’s. “Now, come on. We’ll be late for Physics.”

* * *

 

Later that day, Ladybug and Chat Noir faced an akuma that caused flying pigs and rainbow-farting unicorns to flood the streets. No one that attended the Collège Françoise Dupont was particularly surprised.

**Author's Note:**

> assorted random thoughts:
> 
> \- i lol’ed when i wrote “mr damocles quailed” bc birds. also it’s 5am and i’m running on peppermint chocolate and the hamilton soundtrack.  
> \- (also, adrien singing Helpless about marinette is an amazing thought)  
> \- i tried not to write chloe as “shrieking” or “wailing” or all the things people seem to write when writing chloe as a bitch because.......i had a much better explanation for this but i am so tired and i’m just going to hope you Get What I’m Trying To Say
> 
> if you wanna tell me something i can change to make this better, hmu on tumblr  
> EDIT EDIT: this got a lot more attention than I thought it would! i've said this in the comments, but i'll say it again here: i'm going to try and write sequels to this where marinette and chloe continue to be amazing and possibly become a bit gay. if you have anything you'd like to see my try to write, prompt me at dottywords on tumblr. (i would link it but the code isn't working, so. nvmd.)  
> have a good day!


End file.
